A Curious New World
by fangirlshippingservice
Summary: During the events of Dream Drop Distance, Sora and Riku end up in a warped version of 19th century Britain and soon learn of the strange - almost occult - occurrences becoming more and more prevalent with each day. Will the two Keyblade wielders leave with their souls intact?


The mist and the darkness were as thick as thieves on that London night. Sora, a short boy with spiky brown hair, walked alone through the unwelcoming streets. The eerie scenery caused even the heroic Keyblade wielder to draw his weapon, known far and wide as the Kingdom Key, and glace over his shoulder occasionally. Speaking of Sora, he was rather confused. He had yet to see monsters of any kind. No Nobodies, no Heartless, and no Dream Eaters. There was nothing in the air but the wind's ominous howl.

He held his giant key close to his body, as if to comfort himself in some way. The boy halted suddenly and pointed his Keyblade straight ahead; he swore that the borderline silence was punctured by a few footsteps. The wind hissed. Nothing dwelled in the streets but he and his own fear. He lowered his weapon and continued (a fair bit more hurriedly) in his search for shelter. The boy could feel his blood racing through his limbs. The fear was claiming even his physical form.

_**CRASH!**_

A bolt of lightning reached out and grasped a hill in the distance. The boy held back a scream. It illuminated the scenery for but a moment, but Sora was certain he caught a glimpse of red hair whipping around a corner. He thrust his Keyblade into the air and shouted, "Show yourself!" The thunder's rumble ceased. Sora shook visibly. But he refused to move from his position; he knew he was all but alone.

The _vroom_ of a chainsaw pierced the air. The boy yelped and leapt back. He whipped his Keyblade above his head; if he had been a nanosecond late, he would have been dead. A chainsaw hissed against its hilt before sliding off, its wielder landing just in front of him. She —or he—had a sharp toothy smile plastered across his face and a head of long, blood red hair. "Sorry, darling," he chuckled before jabbing his chainsaw forth. Sora jumped back, but he couldn't quite escape its maw. He hunched over in pain. His opponent took advantage of this opportunity and easily knocked the Keyblade out of the boy's hand. He walked forward. The grin became bloodthirsty. Sora stumbled backward, but quickly fell on his side in pain. A slow chortle emerged from the man. He rose his chainsaw…

…and promptly growled in pain. Blood shot out from the back of his head. Sora heard the chainsaw turning off and realized he was still alive and looked up to see a tall man dressed in black hopping off of a building and landing sure-footedly beside the ginger. "Grell Sutcliff!" he exclaimed. 'Grell' straightened his back. "What are you doing?!" The redhead's response was delayed. "Collecting a Cinematic Record…" He averted his eyes for a moment before focusing them on his boss' hand (which had been conveniently shoved in his face). "List. Now." He demanded. Grell frowned as he produced a leather-bound book from within his coat. He snatched it out of his hand and paged through it quickly. Sora was bewildered. What is a Cinematic Record? Why was the redhead trying to kill him earlier?

The sharply-dressed man placed his forefinger on a specific point on a page and leaned towards Grell. He recited, "Adam Peterson. 1:17 AM, February 18th. Died of a heart attack in his bedroom." "First of all, it's not even after midnight, and-" Redhead stomped his foot and interrupted, "I was only having fun, William!" 'William' grimaced and opened his mouth to speak, but was (again) interrupted by Sora. "Wait, what's going on? I'm not Adam. I'm Sora." William shot Grell a look that said "you're not off the hook yet" before turning to the boy bleeding on the ground. "Forgive my subordinate for this predicament;" he urged calmly, "he's a bit of a homicidal maniac. But he's a good guy after you get over that." He bent over, picked the boy up, and shoved him in Grell's arms before he could object to his previous statement. Sora hated it, but was too tired and too hurt to voice it. "Treat his wounds and find him somewhere to stay the night and I might forget this incident." The redhead sighed and began to walk towards the nearest pharmacy.

~:…)^#^(…:~

The lengthy wound on his stomach sewn up and properly bandaged, Sora was carried to the Phantomhive manor. Grell was quite fond of the Earl's butler, and wanted to speak with him about something only he would find interesting. However, Sebastian simply took the boy and slammed the door in the ginger's face without needing explanation of the current situation. He seemed to…'know' things, that butler. Peculiar. Anyway, Sora had already fallen asleep by then. Sebastian calmly took him to the guest bedroom, tucked him in, and left, shutting the door behind him. He then went to check on his master, who was still awake.

"I heard Grell. What was all that?" Sebastian simply smiled. "We have a guest for the night," he stated. "Go to sleep. You'll need the rest for tomorrow." He blew out the candles he carried.


End file.
